


Acceptance

by Lizlow



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizlow/pseuds/Lizlow
Summary: one day, he knows, that is quite possible that they won't always walk the same soil. one day, their paths, their journeys, might lead them further and further away from the other. when he talks to bianca about it, she chirps a big"but we'll always be friends, don'cha worry about that! even if we don't talk for years and years, we'll have our memories, and we'll always, always be under the same big ol' blue sky!"he takes that thought, and ties it around his heart, and he understands the concept, he really does.regardless, he just can't help but be pulled intohergravity. after years of knowing her, he wonders, why is it now he's realizing it? is it her brightness? her fire? the worry of her well-being that festers into him thinking about her determination? her smile? or is it, perhaps, the longing that has settled in during a wordless absence that he... knew had to come.she'll be fine. it's her. he's certain of that. but it still doesn't bring an end, an end to the curiosity he harbors.
Relationships: Cheren/Touko | Hilda
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two and their dynamic a lot! I've been replaying White 2 lately, and thinking a lot about memory link, and the general departure of the first game's protagonist, and about just how much everyone misses them, and it really hits me! this was a prompt given by a friend of mine, please enjoy and thank you for reading!

“Today’s Hilda’s biiiig day, but it’s ours too!” Bianca exclaims, and she hops a little bit in excitement. After making such a wreck of Hilda’s room, to which Cheren is not blameless, and following their profusely stated apologies to her mother about the fact, the three of them are finally ready to venture out onto Route 1. “ _Soooo_ , all together now, together, you know, let’s take this step. It’s our very first one into the world as _trainers_ , so no looking back!” 

Cheren watches as Bianca shifts and looks back toward her own house, before smacking her cheeks, putting down her feet firmly, and nodding to herself. Her excitement - and loudness - returns once Hilda pats her shoulder. 

“I’m _so_ excited! We’ll take Unova by storm, won’t we, Bianca?” 

Bianca’s voice pipes, “That’s right! We’ll make lots of friends and see this adventure to the end, and beyond! Nothing to hold us back!”

“Yeah, exactly! We’ll show everyone what we’re made of!” Hilda’s attention whirls to Cheren, and she continues, “Won’t we, Cheren?”

And of course, Cheren plans on answering with the confirmation only he _can_ give, but before he can manage to get it out, Hilda’s already looped her arm through his and Bianca’s, with Bianca shouting with her signature energy, “One and two..!! Here we go!” 

“Okay, here we go,” Cheren says quickly, so he has _some_ sort of word in the conversation. 

“Woohoo! Onward!” 

But instead of actually full-burst pulling him forward, they look between each other, and all move one step ahead. The same time, in sync, because they know one another, and they know that even a silly little ritual like this is _really important!_ Really, it is. It comes to mean the world to them, and changes all they know, challenges what they think is what they must do in their lives. 

To become stronger, to do all they can, what will be their roles? 

Hilda releases the two of them and dashes a few steps more, before twisting back around to face them, and pumping her fist before she settles both of her arms “I think our new partners really loved it too; they did it with us! Let’s have lots of fun, Tepig!” She exclaims this as her Tepig hops up and into her arms, so she helps her Pokemon balance herself on her shoulder. 

Bianca scoops up her Pokemon as well, and says, “I’m gonna do my best to get Pokeballs real soon, darling! We’re gonna get you a friend so you won’t be so lonely!”

The two of them beam at Cheren after, and his Pokemon practically attaches himself to his side. 

It’s only natural that the three of them would set off together, so there’s plenty of appreciation to Professor Juniper for presenting them with this opportunity. Cheren takes in the sight of the hug of them. Bianca with her endless affection for her new Pokemon, and Hilda with her hands on her hips surveying the distance they have to cross to reach Accumula Town. His two childhood friends are boisterous. Bianca’s clumsy, and Hilda, _well_ , Hilda’s extremely headstrong. 

“Battles are really fun! I think Tepig thinks so too!” Hilba exclaims, and her Tepig seems to cheer along with her. Already do they get each other, at least, they’re starting to. Not like Hilda hides what she’s thinking. It’s shown in her actions, as she claps her hands together and waves them around like that. She then moves and lightly elbows Cheren’s arm, adding, “Tepig and I will be counting on you to teach us lots more! In short, I’ll be relying on you.”

“Of course. Ask me anything. Naturally, I’ll do my best to answer. Now - ah, Bianca, Professor Juniper forgot to mention that Pokemon jump out at you in the tall grass, so be cautious.”

“I’ll be fi-ii-ne! I’ve got my partner with me now, and how else are we supposed to make a new friend if we’re scared of a little grass?”

He shakes his head, and exasperation rolls in, much to the complete dismay of Bianca, who then pouts really obviously. But even that is soon to fade as a big idea hits her and she bursts out and bustles all about it. A competition - a capture one at that! - is proposed, and it sounds like an excellent idea for the Pokedex pages to be filled. Things are lively, his friends and their Pokemon continue their chatter and rabble. The unknown is something they’ll soon come to face. That’s a given. 

Cheren closes his eyes and lets the fresh breeze pass him by. Winds of change? Of growth? They’ve yet to find out, what they’ll discover, what they’ll get thrown into, that’s on the horizon. Soon, he figures, in the grand scheme of who they will be, who he thinks he _must_ be, this will all be naught but a distant memory.

* * *

Her hand rests loosely over his. It’s an unconscious action, he believes, since she’s done things like this before, plenty of times, all seemingly without thought. That’s just her, the one that’ll grab him and yank him forward, no matter what doubt stews within him, no matter the uncertainties he’s come to face. Through thick and thin, her Pokemon are by her side, and she’s afforded the same courtesy to him. 

She and everyone else. It’s thanks to them that his glasses have been wiped clean by a cloth, one cut from their dreams, from their hopes and affections. His Pokemon, too, they’ve stuck by him, together, and they’ve all learned. 

He’s heard her take described in a way he agrees with: She puts faith in _her_ ideals and allows herself to follow forward, never losing her grasp. Her absolute adoration for her partners and strength granted by those forged, eternal bonds, they all culminate into her outward, and inward, passion. And it’s fetching, _w-what a bo_... his thoughts are muddled, but he is conscious, of the contact, of the feeling of his _heart_ _skipping a beat_ so he...

...coughs into his other arm. 

Naturally, he... doesn’t move his hand at all. If ease is what this lends to her, then he’ll what he can, in the way that he can. What rests on the horizon is complicated, a tale of ‘chosen’ heroes hangs before them, so he believes it’s a fine idea for her to take a moment to think before the world is laid bare to _their_ battle. 

Hilda is more than ready for it, perhaps she had been the moment she met her first partner Pokemon, the second she formed a connection. She can handle it, he knows she can. He’s tested it, personally. She’s _something else_ ; great, he means that with every sincere fiber of his being that he has ever mustered, and she has those closest to her cheering her on. Of course, that includes himself. He worries, and these worries ruffle up, because of her tendency to be so _reckless_. 

All of his energy, all of hers, channeled forward. He knows what truths have come to him, he knows the ideals he has pursued, and he wishes N will hear them all, too. 

“Hey, Cheren, question.” 

“What... What is it, Hilda?”

Hilda looks at him and grins, grins with that grin that’s always _oozed_ with confidence, and she reaches out and pats his head with her free hand, roughing up his hair _a lot_ . In this action, she seems to laugh, but beneath that laughter is a layer of... what _could_ he call it? Serious is something he’s seen from her - her face in battle is as serious (and scary to some) as anyone can get. But this expression, it’s not fear, not entirely. The weight of the world presses itself heavy upon her shoulders, so much so that even the stronger push of her hand over his can’t compare, but she... she has him, and the others, surely, she’s aware of this. Cheren sees that. So this _display_... wishful, perhaps? “Hehe, you made that too easy.”

“W-What was that for?” 

“To stop _you_ from looking _so_ stiff!” 

“Hey, n-now of all times? How bothersome...” 

“I know, I know, bad timing, it’s a complete _bother_! But, I... needed that,” more and more her voice, face, demeanor, shifts into a deep thoughtfulness. “There’s no way I’ll lose. I can’t. Winning isn’t _everything_ ,” Her fingers wrap inward a little bit. “But... a-anyway, say, if I were to chase what I believed in, what would _you_ do?” 

She asks him this knowing that he’s struggled with his own answers all along, perhaps even knowing that he’d probably... _believe in her wishes_ , since what else is he supposed to do? She’s far too stubborn to deny them, understands her position in this story far too well to run away from it. She’ll face this with _one-hundred percent_ , as well as any steps that follow it. 

“Support you.” 

“Cheren...” 

“What else would I have said?” He trusts her, and her dear partners. They have their own capabilities, to protect what’s dear, to face everything. “Even if you look ‘uncool,’ you’re the one always giving it your all.”

“I’m not holding anything back, so I won’t _look_ uncool.”

“Oh? You certainly will if you get riled up like that. ...And if you doubt yourself. It’s unlike you, you know. Even questioning what we’d do, and what you’re able to, too.” That’s just part of her _ideals_ , now isn’t it? Both him and her, an image that they wanted to meet, that they thought was necessary. “No matter what path we take, we’ll have support from the people around us, our Pokemon, our important friends...”

“...Mmhmm! Yeah, _yeah_ , that’s right! It’s really thanks to everyone I know that I’m able to stand here. My family, Mister Alder, the gym leaders, the Professors... my Pokemon, Bianca, and, of course, you too. So thanks a lot, Cheren. For everything.”

“...Until the end.”

“And beyond, of course! I don’t really think we can say there’s an _end._ There’s legacies, duh, but memories too. For my dreams, in terms of this world, myself and the others...”

Cheren fishes within himself, trying to come up with a good set of comforting words. For all the flack he gives Bianca, a certain phrase rings true from her, “We’ll... always be under the same sky.”

“Now that’s a familiar sentence! But, exactly!” She leans against him just a little bit. How soon will it be until she stands? Considering how ‘dire’ this is in the grand scheme of things, it’ll be a blink and she’ll be off to combat the _truly heartless_ , confront the threats to Unova. 

For now, he takes this in. 

“I will keep getting stronger as well.” 

“I trust in you to chase _your_ dreams too.” 

The power to say what’s in the deepest trenches of himself perhaps, what he’s figured out. Eyelids flutter and close, he needs to take a long look at himself, after this passes, so he’s prepared for what has yet to come. Not just on his own mental, but on his bonds with his Pokemon as well. With them, he’ll make it. His path, it’ll be within reach. And he’ll... he’ll wait for her. 

Actually, it’s better to say he’ll throw his faith to the skies, to the space beside him, even if they don’t stand next to each other. To the conscious and the unconscious, all the light and dark, reality and conviction and uncertainty. Every corner of himself. They are different, that is natural, and he’ll take that in _stride_ now. A differing role, and a unique way of holding the other up. He’s finally seen things through a new lens, through all these days, months, seasons, and that’s why... 

Even if she goes faraway, like it sounds like she might, he’ll greet her back. That’s just their relationship, that’s just their promise, that’s just _them_. 

* * *

A sudden light filters into the room, causing the young man sleeping to finally stir, “Mmm... Ah, I fell asleep at my desk again.” Cheren blinks himself awake, glancing to the window and seeing his Liepard, who let himself out of his Pokeball, sauntering off to a corner of the room after moving _away_ from the window. He glances at the time and understands _why_ his Pokemon would decide to do what he wanted. “What a peculiar dream though... how nostalgic.” 

It would be unfair to leave these memories buried in the mud, for those, those were not simply dreams. There is no living in the past, but it does not mean he should be so careless as to not hold onto the memory. It is pleasant, precious. Does he look disheveled, disoriented? From this pulled forth information? From his improper pattern of slumber? 

His Cinccino brushes through his hair, then comes to pat his hand, and he feels his Stoutland sit beside him and nudge his side. “Thank you, both of you. I’m alright though.” 

Cheren uses both of his hands to pet Cinccino and Stoutland, before carefully getting to his feet and pushing in his chair under his desk. He puts a reminder into him to give them a good massage later, as both gratitude and as a regards for their well-being. “Now then, today may not quite be a formal class day, but it would be unbecoming for someone such as myself to not be prepared to tend to young trainers’ questions.” 

He makes this statement forwardly, but inwardly, he is still deeply entrapped by memories, by a reminder of what his situation is now. He gets it; he’ll not backtrack on his statement of _belief_ , of support. But it’s _not_ knowing where _she_ might have gone that’s worrisome. With Bianca, he always knew where she was, she may be impetuous, but her journey had brought her attention to something she found truly fun. Just as he has found what is likely, most clearly, his own calling. 

His trip of recollection, and all these complicated feelings that often follow, can be credited, this time, to his first gym challenger. Everything, the look of their eyes, their energy, the enjoyment both them and their Pokemon showed during the battle. These little things remind him of _her_. He even got a call from her mother congratulating him on his accomplishments, before she burst into tears speaking of an adorable trainer who reminded her _so much_ of her own daughter.

And he immediately sees where she’s coming from. 

Sighing, he straightens out his tie and fixes his hair, before picking up his training manual. He uses his other hand to thumb over his Xtransceiver, and he considers trying to give her a ring, even if he knows it won’t connect. Is she out in a dead zone? Or perhaps she dropped or... _broke_ her Xtransceiver getting caught up in a particularly intense battle? That sounds like something she’d do, the one that has the capability to change things around her with a single encounter. 

Whatever she’s up to, he knows she’s alright. 

The fun he should have learned to have too late floods his mind. The Ferris Wheel ride he never had with her, in spite of her insistence on the entertainment of it. Whether he likes things to say the same or not, the experience of it with _that young trainer_ says the world. He looked up at the sky, and thought about Bianca’s words, _“We’ll always be under the same big ol’ blue sky!”_ The same words he reflected back to Hilda back then, too. 

But Cheren digresses, and thinks that he should like to try the Ferris Wheel with _Hilda_ as well, one day, in the future, once her task has been accomplished, once she has _returned_. Just like he could have promised, just like she wished. 

_“I’ll get you to come with me one day, Cheren! You’ve been to Nimbasa countless times, and you haven’t seen Unova in that way yet! It rea~lly puts things into perspective, how far we’ve walked, the little corners we’ve yet to see, all the battles we’ve faced, it’s exciting! Hope you’ll give it a whirl, it’s_ **_so_ ** _fun!”_

Her voice echoes in his head, but it doesn’t end there, “ _Every battle with you has been fun, Cheren! I love battling, but it’s just that much more exciting when you can go all in and all out with no holds-barred! You’re one of my best opponents, so thanks for pushing me and my partners forward!”_

Maybe it’s the budding determination in the faces of his students that brings _that_ statement forward, and it only increases as they see him rise and they dash over to him. A good chunk of them want to get better, better, which is why they’re here, at the Trainer’s School. That’s why, even on days where they don’t have classes properly, they put their effort into training, bonding, and learning. 

“Teacher! Please advise us! Oversee our practice battle!”

“Ah, of course.” 

Maybe he’s still adjusting to bits of these things. Advice is something he’s used to, but putting these things into practice in a way that isn’t just presenting it to his childhood friends... he still has a long way to go. He supposes standing side-by-side with _that trainer_ and Hugh has helped him adjust, but in terms of timing, he’s still very new at everything. 

These students are ones that have often volunteered their time to _also_ be gym trainers, when challengers approach, to that end, they’ve already got a lot of talent under their belt. He looks forward to witnessing how far they’ll go. That’s why he’s proud to say that, when they go about the battle they’ve requested he watch, he can see their improvements. They’re taking it seriously, and it shows. 

This is just a part of his day, his current life, _his path_ that he has chosen with his _own two hands_. 

* * *

Cheren hears the gym doors open and he prepares himself to give his usual greeting speech; that’s just part of the job of a Gym Leader. It’s tough, but Professor Juniper was absolutely right - win or lose, he’s the one who can guide trainers _and_ help them strengthen their bonds. And that connection with Pokemon is ever important; it is the well that so many of the best of the best have drawn upon. He is no exception, his friends aren’t either. 

On that last thought, Cheren draws in a breath, closes his eyes, turns around, and smiles, “You must be a challenger. Welcome to Aspertia City’s Pokemon Gym. I’m the Gym Leader, Cheren. And-” he opens his eyes, and nearly drops his book, “I- Hm? Y-You...”

Standing near the entrance isn’t a person, but rather an Emboar, one he _believes_ is familiar. No, he’s certain of this assumption. His gut is shouting at him; his heart is _yelling_ at him. That Emboar has all the same battle scars - worn just as proud - as the one’s he’s sure she’s had before, there’s even the three scratches from his Liepard from a particularly rough battle. He... He’s not imagining it, is he? 

That would be a bothersome and cruel thing for his mind to do, playing such idealized, hopeful tricks on him. 

The Emboar moves aside once she’s sure Cheren has settled himself in, adjusted to the sight of her. Or maybe it was from a tap on her back, at just the right moment. That answer is unclear. 

He’s _positive_ his mind is playing games with him now, however. This has to be a look-a-like, a doppelganger, a phantom. Does he need to up his vision prescription? More sleep? Is he projecting onto yet another trainer the illusion of the precious person he has come to love? After these years of _radio silence_ , of a mission he understood was absolutely personal to her, _it just can’t be her..._

Although, with the fact that _that one_ spoke to N, here in Unova... 

Silence passes, all silence except for her footsteps, and the _thump_ of Emboar’s right after. She twirls a bit of her fluffy hair and strides with long but eager steps, and grins, grins with all the vigor he’s ever known _her_ for - and then some. She’s changed a lot, but at the same time... not at all. There’s that same fire that burns ever bright in her eyes; it extends to her Emboar and ignites the deepest cinders in Cheren too. Her presence is _immense._ No mistaking it, no denying it, he’s rendered speechless, a whole wash over of complicated emotions bubbles up. As if sensing the entire ordeal, his Stoutland comes out to greet this _important guest_ and Liepard waltzes out and stares her down. 

It settles in; _a truth and an ideal_ , simultaneous. 

He doesn’t need to pinch himself to _take it in_ , but he’s relieved. For all the promises he can fulfill, for all the support he _can return_ favor for. He believed in her, wondered to the stars and the mutters and to the trainer that matched a similar spirit what she was up to, and she... she... _In and out, Cheren. Not a phantom, not a mere ‘hope,’ do not deny your eyes, do not reject this. Fact is fact. Hilda is..._ _home._

“You’d be right, I’m a challenger, Gym Leader Cheren” she answers, stretching her arms over her head. She grabs a Pokeball and holds it out in front of her, her expression shifting to the seriousness of her battle mode, “I’d love to have a rematch, for old time's sake.”


End file.
